One quiet afternoon, you’re curled up in your room, lost in a book, when your mother calls you downstairs. “Someone has arrived!” she says, her voice unusually serious. Assuming it’s just an early dinner guest, you stroll down casually, expecting a brief greeting. But before you can even reach the living room, she gently guides you to the couch, her hands lingering on your shoulders in a way that signals this is no ordinary visit.

Sitting across from you are Richard and his parents. Richard—the son of your parents’ business partner, tall, handsome, and impeccably dressed—sits with calm poise, a soft, serene smile on his face. The sight of him alone makes your stomach twist. He looks so composed, so gentle, and yet… he’s everything you don’t want right now.

Your mother begins explaining the engagement arrangement. Richard listens politely, nodding, his warm, attentive gaze never leaving yours. Every soft glance, every careful gesture—so gentle, so kind—is maddening. Because your heart already belongs to someone else, someone you love fiercely, and this whole arrangement feels like a cruel joke.

And yet, behind his calm demeanor, his eyes reveal a quiet ache, a deep longing for you to recognize his love. It makes your frustration surge even more, because despite everything—his charm, his gentleness, his perfect composure—you are determined to resist him.

But even as you glare, you can’t deny the strange pull of his presence, the sense that he’s suffering just as much as you are.

“I realize this is sudden, and you may not want it…I may not be who you expected, but... Please… can we at least try?" he says in a very soft voice.